


Commiserating

by MDST3559014



Category: Fleabag (TV), Sex Education (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:14:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22810804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MDST3559014/pseuds/MDST3559014
Summary: Maeve goes to interview for a job at Fleabag's cafe after she graduates high school and has moved to London.
Relationships: Fleabag - Relationship, Maeve Wiley - Relationship
Kudos: 11





	Commiserating

Maeve Wiley strides down the crowded street side-stepping a small dog. She begins to smile at the dog before noticing his owner grinning back at her, she returns his friendliness with a pointed glare and quickened her pace.  
“Perv.” She thinks to herself.  
She pulls up her phone, ignoring a text from Otis to check google maps to check how close she is to Hilary’s. She goes back to the text - reading it again.  
“How’s London?”  
They aren’t together - not that they ever really were, which makes their ongoing contact even more confusing to Maeve. Without high school, the sex clinic, and their routine - their communication felt strained. But that’s not important right now - right now she needs a job and Hilary’s Cafe is hiring.  
She stops walking glances up at a sign with a ridiculous guinea pig decked out in a pink bow and shakes her head - it’s 4:40 pm a few customers are seated outside chatting and drinking their coffee. She half-jogs into the building straining to appear enthusiastic. There’s a woman behind the counter, her back is facing Maeve and she keeps fiddling with various vegetables. Maeve stops moving and looks around slowly, everything in sight is guinea pig themed. She slouches up to the counter waiting for Fleabag to turn around. She clears her throat pointedly Fleabag appears not to notice. Maeve taps her fingers on the counter and shifts her weight from her left foot to her right and back.  
“Ahem.” Maeve cringes at the sound. Fleabag continues to contemplate the cucumber.  
“Ummm, excuse me.” Maeve’s voice is too loud, too abrupt. Fleabag jumps, dropping her cucumber.  
“Fuck - sorry,” she slides up to Maeve, “Can I get you anything?”  
“What? No - I’m here for the job?”  
“What job?” Fleabag’s eyes widen  
“There’s no job?” Maeve is straining to be polite.  
“My job. Are you after that?” Fleabag brandishes her cucumber menacingly.  
“No… are you not hiring?”  
“Nahhh we are. I’m just fucking with you. You’re Maeve right?” Fleabag slides around the counter to shake her hand grinning aggressively.  
Maeve sighs inwardly to herself, “I need this job… I need this job… I need this job,” she chants in her mind before answering.  
“Yes - ummm I think you knew my brother.” Maeve fiddles with her rings.  
“Yeah, he dated my friend for a bit he’s sort a bit of a dick.”  
“Still is. Consistency is key.” Maeve starts to smile.  
“Have you worked in a cafe before? Maybe a restaurant?” She puts down the cucumber and begins clearing cups from a table as she talks.  
“I worked at a Pretzel stand for a bit.” Maeve hopes she doesn't ask anymore questions - she didn't exactly leave on the best of terms. She debates mentioning the sex clinic, it shows organization but its weird as fuck.  
“Sounds dull” Fleabag carries a two cups stacked atop three bowls teetering precariously on a chipped plate.  
“It was.” Maeve begins to stack cups following along with Fleabag’s movements.  
“Nice - very helpful.” Fleabag glances back at Maeve.  
“I’m a hard worker - really good with numbers and organized.” Maeve says to Fleabag’s back.  
“Good for you,” Fleabag stops moving and looks back at Maeve, “Stop doing that - we’ll face each other for the interview portion of your application.”  
She dumps the cups unceremoniously onto the counter and motions for Maeve to do the same before pulling up a stool for each of them.  
“Alright - so your name’s Maeve... Fuck, whats your last name...Webby? Whiny? I can’t remember - I swear your brother kept changing it whenever he introduced himself.  
“Wiley.”  
“Fitting.” Fleabag leans toward Maeve.  
“And you’re Hilary.” Maeve begins to extend her hand.  
“Fuck you - Hilary’s a guinea pig.” Fleabag laughs.  
“What?”  
“My friend’s pet guinea pig - her name is Hilary. She lives here - that’s where the theme came from.” She motions around the room.  
“Right - very hygienic.” Maeve wrinkles her nose.  
“Don't worry, Hilary’s too depressed to help with the cooking.” Fleabag shifts to wave at a cage in the corner of the room.  
“She’s depressed?” Maeve narrows her eyes.  
“Touch-starved. But enough about her - when can you start?” Fleabag shifts her focus back to Maeve.  
“You’re giving me the job?” Maeve can’t help but hide her surprise.  
“Yeah… why not?” Fleabag smiles at her.  
“Great - I can start as soon as possible.” Maeve stands up from her stool.  
“Perfect be here tomorrow, 7:00am.” Fleabag stands up and begins to move behind the counter.  
“Okay- great. Should I bring anything?”  
“Do you need to bring anything?”  
“See you tomorrow.” Maeve turns quickly forcing herself to smile and wave. 

3 weeks later

“Hey cockbiter,” Fleabag stares down at the tomatoes she's slicing.  
“I feel like it's less forgivable for you to call me that than my old classmates. Also, what if I'd been a customer you weren't looking.” Maeve closes the cafe door behind her.  
“I say it with affection. And you shouldn’t have told me if you didn’t want a nickname.”  
“We were commiserating over sexism, Dickhead.”


End file.
